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SKETCH OF THE LIFE 

OF 

GEN. JOHN BURROWS 

OF LYCOMING COUNTY 



^ 

^ 



FURNISHED BY HIMSELF AT THE REQUEST OF HIS NUMEROUS 
RELATIVES, AND RRPUBLISHBD BY HIS GREAT GRANDSON, NATH- 
ANIEL BURROWS BUBB OF WILLIAMSPORT, LYCOMING COUNTY, PENN- 
SYLVANIA, IN THE YEAR 1917. 



ry /'» C 




General John Burrows 



SKETCH OF THE LIFE 
—OF- 

GEN. JOHN BURROWS 

OF LYCOMING COUNTY. 



Furnished by himself at the request of his numerous relatives. 

And rep2iblished by his Great Grandson, Nathaniel 

Burrows Biibb of Williatnsport, Lycoming 

Cotoiiy Pen7ia. in the year ipiy. 



I, John Burrows, of Lycoming County, and State of 
Pennsylvania, being solicited by my children and grand- 
children, and other relatives, to give them a history of my 
life, I have undertaken to give them a brief sketch of some 
of the events of it, and of my parentage. 

I was born near Rahway, a town in East Jersey, the 15th 
of May, 1760. My grandfather, John Burrows, with other 
brethren, emigrated from England to get clear of religious 
persecution, and landed in Massachusetts in 1645, and set- 
tled near Rahway, (where I was born and where my father 
was born,) where he died, being near a hundred years old. 

My father, John Burrows, married Lois, the daughter of 
the Rev. Nathaniel Hubble, a Presbyterian clergyman, (who 
preached to the same congregation, in Rahway, upwards of 
forty years,) by whom he had five sons. 

My mother dying when I was an infant, he left me with 
his only sister, (intermarried with Richard Hall,) and re- 
moved to Pennsylvania and settled on the bank of the Dela- 
ware, opposite Trenton, where he married a widow Morgan, 
an excellent woman and an affectionate step-mother. 

The first mail route in America was established at this 
time. My father's proposals, (as he informed me,) went to 
England, and he "was allotted the carrying of the mail be- 
tween New York and Philadelphia, three times a week, on 
horseback — going through in one day and night, and re- 
turning the next" laying by the Sabbath. He always kept 
light boys for riders, and each of his sons had to take their 
turn, until they became too heavy. 



When I was thirteen years old, my father sent for me 
home, and I had to take my turn at riding-; and I never car- 
ried a mail, during the three years that I rode, but I could 
have carried on my little finger. 

My kind step-mother having deceased, my father married 
a third wife, very unlike his last. She had six children, 
and he had six. Upon which occasion, his children, not 
feeling comfortable at home and the news of the British 
landing on Long Island, we all five marched in the militia ; 
and when our tour expired, we joined the flying camp ; was 
on Long Island at the retreat of it. Two of my brothers 
were taken at Fort Washington, and the rest of us returned 
with the remnant of the retreating army to Pennsylvania, 
and the British close on our heels all the way, until we 
crossed the Delaware. 

Gen. Washington lay about two weeks at my father's, 
opposite Trenton ; then removed to Newtown, the county 
seat of Bucks, from which place he marched with his little 
army on Christmas morning, 1776, and crossed the Dela- 
ware that night, nine miles above Trenton. I crossed with 
him, and assisted in taking the Hessians next morning. 
The particulars of the arrangement and plan of the differ- 
ent divisions of the army intending to cross the river, but 
was prevented by the ice ; the places, number of divisions, 
&c., has been erroneously given in histor}". The prisoners 
were conveyed across the river, and we remained in Jersey 
until that day week, the 2d of January, (the cannonade at 
Trenton,) and marched that night, at twelve o'clock, up the 
Sandpink Creek, and arrived at Stony-Brook, about one 
mile from Princeton, at sunrise. In ascending the hill to 
the town, to the right of the main road, there was an ex- 
tensive thick thorn hedge. When we got pretty near to it, 
the whole British force that lay at Princeton had concealed 
themselves in ambush behind the hedge, and rose and fired. 
The Philadelphia militia were in front, and gave way ; but 
were rallied again by Generals Cadwallader and Mififlin. 

After the enemy were driven from the hedge — there be- 
ing but one gate in the hedge to pass through to pursue 
them — Gen. Mercer in advance, with a small party, was first 
through the gate. The enemy observing it, rushed back to 
the charge, and bayoneted the General and twelve others 
before they could be relieved. Part of the army moved 
swiftly to the right, round the hedge, got ahead of part of 
the enemy and captured five hundred of them. 

While we were collecting our dead and wounded, the ad- 
vance of the main British army that we had left in the night 






at Trenton, fired on some men that were sent to cut the 
bridge down that was over Stony-Brook. We now moved 
on with our prisoners. The British forded Stony-Brook 
and pursued us. We were again fired on, cutting the bridge 
down at Kingston, three miles from Princeton. After pur- 
suing our course some six or seven miles on the road to 
Brunswick, we turned off the main road to elude the pursuit 
of the enemy, and halted at Pluckemin for refreshment, 
where we interred the dead with the honors of war and had 
the wounds of the wounded dressed. 

From this place I returned home ; and after staying a 
short time to rest, I returned back and joined the army at 
Morristown, as an express rider, at forty dollars per month. 

Our army lay this summer (1777) in Jersey, Had several 
skirmishes with the enemy. At one of them, Gen. Sterl- 
ing's division, composing JMaxwell's and Conway's brig- 
ades, were severely handled at the Short Hills, a few miles 
from Brunswick. 

When the British appeared in the Chesapeake we crossed 
the Delaware to Pennsylvania. The British landed at the 
head of Elk River, and marched for Philadelphia. We met 
them at Brandy wine Creek, at a place called Chad's-Ford; 
and a battle ensued between the hostile armies, the result 
of which is well known, though some trifling errors are 
committed, and incidents omitted in history, that might be 
interesting to many at this day, and which I find to be the 
case in every battle that I was in during the war. 

After the battle our army retreated, and was pursued by 
the British through different parts of Chester County, but 
had no fighting except at the Paoli, with Gen. Wayne's 
brigade ; after which the British steered their course for 
Philadelphia, and stationed part of their army at German- 
town, and Gen. Washington encamped at a place called the 
Trap, about twenty-five miles from Philadelphia. 

Gen. A\''ashington soon perceived the evil of suffering the 
enemy to keep possession of the country as well as the city, 
and the advantage they had in their depredations upon the 
inhabitants, and supplying themselves with every necessary 
that they wanted. He was determined to deprive them of 
that advantage ; and accordingly moved from the Trap with 
his whole force and attacked them at Germantown and 
drove them more than a mile.' when two circumstances 
occurred to impede our onward course. The enemy filled 
a strong stone house with soldiers, with two field pieces, 
which we ineffectually tried to get possession of; and the 
other was Gen. Stevens, of Virginia, laying back on the 



left wing of the army. Cornwallis arriving in the meantime, 
with -his whole force from the city, we were compelled to 
retreat; and the enemy pursued us for several miles. It 
had, however, the desired effect — it confined them to the 
city. 

We lay then about two weeks at White Marsh, fifteen 
miles from Philadelphia; then crossed the Schuylkill, and 
lay a few days on the hill near the Gulph Mills, and then 
went into winter quarters at the Valley Forge. 

About two weeks before we left the Valley Forge I was 
at home at my father's, on furlough; and while I was there, 
the British sent a gunboat and five or six hundred men up 
the Delaware, evidently for the special purpose of burning 
the valuable buildings belonging to Col. Joseph Kirkbride 
an active and zealous Whig. The gunboat ran aground on 
a bar in the river. I fell in with a company of artillery 
that belonged to Trenton, and we went as near to the gun- 
boat as we could get, on the Jersey shore, and fired into her 
the whole time she lay aground ; and she fired her thirty-two 
pounder at us until the tide raised and floated her off, 
when she steered her course down the river. 

The land troops, after they had burned up the entire 
buildings of Col. Kirkbride, consisting of a fine dwelling 
house, a barn, glass house and outbuildings of every de- 
scription, marched by land for Bristol, where they embarked 
again for Philadelphia. We crossed the river to pursue 
them, I stopped, with two others of the company, to view 
the ruins of Kirkbride 's buildings, and my stopping there 
enabled me to prevent the destruction of other buildings, 
equally valuable as Kirkbride 's belonging to Thomas Roche, 
a violent Tory. Kirkbride and him lived about a quarter of 
a mile apart, on the bank of the river opposite Bordentown. 
They were both rich and had large possessions. While 
viewing the ruins we observed a British soldier lying drunk 
with wine from Kirkbride 's cellar, and while securing him 
I saw a skiff coming across the river, and a man rowing it, 
without a hat, appeared in great haste. I observed to the 
two men who stopped with me that I thought he was bent 
on mischief — that his object was to burn Roche's buildings 
by way of retaliation. As soon as the boat struck the shore 
he jumped out with a bundle of oakum under his arm, and 
made toward Roche's. I observed to the men with me that 
we must not suffer it to be done. They replied, "Let him 
burn up the d — d Tory!" I however prevailed upon them 
to go with me to Roche's, and we prevented him from exe- 
cuting his purpose. Roche and the family were very much 



alarmed and one of the daughters fainted. Roche rolled 
out a quarter of a cask of wine to us. The fellow swore he 
would go back and get a force strong enough. He did go 
back to Bordentown, and came over again with two more 
beside himself. We still prevented and deterred them from 
committing the act ; stayed there all night and until a guard 
of men was procured to protect him, and his property was 
saved. This act of mine,in riper years, has given me satis- 
faction. Roche told me after the war that he would reward 
me, but never did ; but I have always considered myself 
sufficiently rewarded in the act itself. I have been thus 
particular in this matter because history makes no mention 
of the afifair. 

I returned back to the Valley Forge, and when it was 
known that the British were about to leave Philadelphia 
and go by land through Jersey to New York, wc left the 
Valley Forge, crossed the Delaware and came up with the 
enemy at Monmouth, where during the action, my horse 
fell dead under me, and Gen. Washington presented me with 
another very good one ; and when I informed him that I 
wished to leave the army, he gave me a certificate of my 
good behavior while with him, which, like a foolish boy, I 
did not take care to preserve. During fourteen months that 
I was with him in this capacity I was a member of his 
household, (except when I was conveying his dispatches.) 
and witnessed traits of the great, the good, the prudent and 
the virtuous man, that would be vanity in me to attempt, 
with my feeble pen, to describe, and do justice to his char- 
acter. 

From Monmouth I returned home ; and things not look- 
ing much more comfortable there than when I first left it, 
and having now arrived at an age to reflect and think of 
my future prospects, how I was to get a living, &c., I con- 
cluded I would learn some trade, and accordingly went into 
Trenton and bound myself to John Yard, to learn the black- 
smith trade. Having lost nothing of my military spirit 
and zeal for the cause of my country, I joined a volunteer 
company of artillery that I had been with, firing at the 
British Gunboat, and was out with the company every sum- 
mer during the four years that I resided in Trenton, and 
one winter campaign. During one of these summers, I 
was at the battle of Springfield, in Jersey; this was the 
seventh battle I was in during the war, besides several skir- 
mishes, one of which skirmishes I have just related ; and as 
I have not seen the particulars of this battle given in history, 
I will here give some of them. 



Kniphausen, a Hessian General, landed at Elizabethtown 
Point with five thousand British and Hessians, and pro- 
ceeded to burn a place called Connecticut Farms, after 
which they made an attempt on Springfield. On the news 
of their landing, we marched with our artillery all night, 
and arrived just in time to take part in the battle as the 
enemy approached the town ; it was defended by the four 
regiments of Jersey regular troops, and the Jersey militia 
almost en masse. There was a deep morass on the south of 
the town, extending east and west a considerable distance 
past it, and but one bridge to get into the town the way the 
enemy came. Our company, and another of artillery, was 
placed pretty near the bridge, behind a small eminence, and 
the shot of the enemy as they came near, all went over us. 
The road they came was straight and open for three-fourths 
of a mile, and we had fair play at them the whole way, till 
they came to the bridge; they were twice on the bridge but 
were beaten back; and considering, as we had to judge of 
their conduct, that they would buy their victory too dear, 
from the advantage we had of them, they gathered up their 
dead and wounded and retreated back to the point where 
they first landed. They were annoyed somewhat by the 
infantry in their retreat, but we remained in our stronghold 
They lay there some days, I forget exactly how long, but 
were determined not to abandon their diabolical purpose of 
burning this town. They returned by another road, and 
our forces being very much weakened by some of the militia 
having gone home, and the regular troops having joined 
General Washington near the Hudson, where he lay watch- 
ing the movements of the British army. As they ap- 
proached the town, we were drawn off, being, on account of 
our weakness, unable to defend it, and thinking that if we 
gave them no resistance the town would fare the better. 
But, alas! to trust to British generosity, was vain indeed, 
when they so often manifested their cruelty and implacable 
hatred to a kindred people in this war. When they entered 
the town they burnt every house in it, except two tory 
houses; a fine meeting house, preached in by a Presbyterian 
minister by the name of Caldwell, who resided in the town, 
and who left his wife in his house, thinking she would be 
a protection to it ; but they shot her through a window, with 
a child in her arms, burned the house, and caught him and 
killed him. Why this apathy to defend this town, I was 
then and am still at a loss to know when it was so nobly 
defended at first. These two places, the Connecticut Farms 
and Springfield, were congregations of zealous whigs, and 



their loyalty to their country had entailed on them this sad 
calamity. 

After I had resided four years in Trenton, I returned to 
Pennsylvania ; my father had removed to the ferry, and left 
my brother (who had got married) on the farm that he had 
left; there was a distillery on the farm and my brother in- 
vited me to join him on the farm. 

My two brothers that were taken at Fort Washington — 
one of them died while a prisoner in New York; the other 
was exchanged, went to the south, and fell with De Calb ; 
and the other one sailed with Commodore Nicholas Biddle 
in the ship Randolph, which was blown up while fighting 
the British at sea, and every soul perished. 

My brother and I lived on this place one year when my 
father sold the ferry and the adjoining farm, and the farm 
we lived on, to Robert Morris, for which he never received 
a cent, except fifty pounds for the boats and two years in- 
terest. After he made this sale, he received an appoint- 
ment in the Comptroller's office, at the adoption of the 
United States constitution, which he held until he died in 
Washington City, upwards of ninety years old ; and though 
he was not able to perform the duties of the office for two 
years before he died, yet they continued to pay him his 
salary until his death. I remember to have heard one of 
the United States officers say, that they were bound, in 
honor, to support him as long as he lived — and they did so. 
My brother and I rented a large farm and merchant mill 
thereon, belonging to his father-in-law, Samuel Torbert, 
and I shortly afterwards married my brother's wife's sister, 
Jane Torbert, by whom I have had seven children, and have 
had as their offspring, forty-three grand-chilren and three 
great-grand-children. 

My wife's mother had deceased some time before I mar- 
ried her, and left eight children ; her father had married a 
second wife, by whom he had at this time three children ; 
she was a widow, and brought three with her; the old man 
had taken to drink, became dissipated, neglected his busi- 
ness, got in debt, and finally his property was sold from 
him. My brother and I purchased one hundred and twenty 
acres of the prime part of the farm, and farmed it together 
one year. The place being too small for us both, we con- 
cluded to separate. I left him on the farm, and went near 
to Philadelphia and rented a finely improved farm, or at 
least it had fine buildings on it, at a rent of nearly two hun- 
dred pound a year, including taxes, &c. I took with me 
a fine team of five horses, and eleven milch cows. I was 



8 

much mistaken in my opinion of this farm, but I had rented 
it in the winter, when the snow went ofi, I found the ground 
worn out, and very poor; I had taken it for seven years, 
and concluded myself bound, by my bargain, to do what I 
could with it, and make the best of a bad bargain. I set to 
work and hauled on to it fifteen hundred bushels of lime, 
ten miles, and three hundred five-horse loads of dung from 
the city, seven miles. This extra expense I was not pre- 
pared to meet; it sunk me considerably in debt, besides my 
rent laying behind. Every thing at this juncton, seemed 
to operate against me : the market for produce, within three 
years, had sunk 100 per cent. ; every field on the farm pro- 
duced no other pasture than garlic, and of course the butter 
was affected with it; and I have sold my butter in hot 
weather, after standing in the market till the middle of the 
day, at four pence per pound, and glad to get it. 

At the end of three years I found that I had sunk six or 
seven hundred pounds. I now saw clearly that it would be 
out of my power to liquidate my debt on the farm, and ac- 
cordingly surrendered it to my landlord, Geo. Fox, of Phila- 
delphia. I had got considerably in debt to him, beside the 
rent, by his assisting me to improve the land. Mr. Fox's 
brother, Samuel M. Fox, came on the farm, and they agreed 
to take my stock of creatures and farming utensils, which 
extinguished only a part of my debt. Samuel gave me two 
hundred dollars to stay with him one year, to put him in 
the way of farming. I had purchased my brother's share 
of the farm in Bucks, that belonged between us. My wife's 
aunt had a lien on it, of three hundred pounds, for which 
I had given her a judgment bond. She had got alarmed 
for the security of her money, and entered up her judgment, 
and had my place condemned before I was aware of it, until 
Dr. Tate, a cousin of my wife, sent his negro eighteen 
miles to inform me of it. Having a demand against her, I 
got the judgment opened; and when my year with Mr. Fox 
was ended, I went back to Bucks county and sold my place 
there to my brother, for six pounds per acre, which was 
sold a few years after for one hundred dollars per acre. 

I remained two years in Bucks, without any prospect of 
improving my pecuniary circumstances, and a debt of a 
thousand dollars to pay and nothing to pay it with, or the 
means of extinguishing any part of it. I concluded to go to 
work at my trade, this being the only means left me for the 
support of my growing and helpless family ; and being in- 
vited by my brother-in-law, Hugh McNair, to go to North- 
ampton county, I moved there and followed my trade for 



two years ; but finding the blacksmith trade a very poor 
trade there, I sold my tools and started with my wife and 
five children, (one of them at her breast,) for Muncy, where 
1 had some relations living, and arrived there on the 17th of 
April, 1794, without eight dollars in money, house or land. 
I was obliged to go into a small cabin about sixteen feet 
square, with a family of six children, and besides, six of my 
own family, including a bound boy. 

I remained in this cabin until the 15th of November, 
when I removed, on eighteen inches depth of snow, to a 
place belonging to my relative. John Hall. I was told, be- 
fore I left Northampton, that distiUing was a good business 
in a new country. I had learned distilling at my father's, 
and brought two small stills with me. The snow that I 
moved on to Mr. Hall's farm soon went ofif, and the weather 
became fine. I set to work and dug a place in the bank, 
along side of a well, put up a small log still-house, and cov- 
ered it with split stufif and dirt. The weather continuing 
fine until New Year's day, on that day I started my stills, 
and the next day winter set in fairly. I found distilling a 
good business. I purchased rye for five shillings a bushel, 
and sold my whiskey for a dollar a gallon ; and by the first 
of April had realized fifty pounds in cash. I was on this 
farm two years. Before I left Northampton, I made a condi- 
tional contract with a William Telfair, of South Carolina, for 
fifty acres of land on the river, the north side of Muncy hill. 
It was in possession of Samuel Wallis, and pending an 
ejectment in the Supreme Court. 1 gained the land, took 
possession of it, and erected a large still-house thereon ; I 
sold my stills, went to Philadelphia, and purchased a pair 
of large stills for one hundred pounds ; borrowed fifty pounds 
from my brother to pay for them, brought them home, and 
set them up in the house that I had erected for them. It 
was late in the autumn before I got them ready to start, and 
the winter set in with intense freezing, without the ground 
filling with water, (the only instance of the kind I ever 
knew,) and continued cold and dry all winter. I could not 
get a bushel chopped for distiUing, there being no mill in 
the neighborhood but Shoemaker's, and it was so nearly 
froze up that it could not grind but very little for the people 
for bread. Some had to go a great distance to get grinding; 
and the water that I depcndeti on to supply the still-house, 
entirely froze up. 

I had run in debt for six hundred and fifty bushels of rye, 
at six shillings and six pence per bushel ; had provided my- 
self with twe'nty head of horned cattle and forty hogs, to be 



lO 

fed on the still slop. Not having this article, that I entirely 
depended on to winter my creatures, I boiled and exhausted 
my whole stock of rye. The country being new, there was 
no hay to be got at any price ; and I hauled straw, some of 
it ten miles, and used every means in my power to keep my 
creatures alive; yet in the spring I had only just half my 
cattle alive, and nine hogs, and was obliged to sell my still 
to pay for the rye, and quit distilling, and before harvest 
arrived I had ran short of bread. There was no grain to be 
had in the neighborhood. I went in search of some — got 
two bushels of wheat sixteen miles of¥, and paid two dollars 
a bushel. I must here tell you of a great feat 1 once per- 
formed, of speed in traveling. 

There were a hundred and fifty acres of vacant land ad- 
joining the little farm I was in possession of, and there was 
a warrant out for one hundred acres of it. I was watching 
to see what part of the land they Avould lay their warrant 
on. As I knew that they could not cover all the land with 
that warrant, I was determined, if I could, to deprive them 
of the balance ; and I believed they mistrusted me for watch- 
ing them — and took advantage of my absence from home, 
to lay their warrant ; and despatched a man on Friday, with 
an application for the fifty acres. I came home on Sunday 
noon — took a little refreshment, and went to Sunbury that 
afternoon, thirty miles ; got my application signed by two 
Justices, on Monday morning; and started at eight o'clock, 
and was in Philadelphia on Tuesday night, one hundred 
and sixty miles from Muncy ; entered my application next 
morning, and obtained the land. The other man came to 
the land office a few mintues after I entered my application. 
I performed this journey on foot, to save expense, and be- 
lieving that I could do it sooner than any horse I had. I 
continued to work on my little farm, and to use the strict- 
est economy to support my helpless family. 

In 1795, Lycoming was taken from Northumberland, and 
erected into a separate county; and in the winter of 1796, I 
was appointed a Justice of the Peace, by Gov. M'Kean; 
which office I held nine years, (until it was vacated, by my 
being elected to the State Senate,) and was the only Justice, 
a great part of that time, where there are now ten town- 
ships, and more than ten Justices ; and the fees of the office 
did not pay for my salt. There never was a certiorari against 
my proceedings, nor an appeal from my judgment; nor did 
I ever issue a scire facias against a constable. I had the 
good fortune, by proper management with the people, to 



II 

put litigation under my feet; until other Justices were ap- 
pointed, when it was encouraged by some of them. 

In 1802, I was elected a County Commissioner; and as- 
sisted in erecting one of the handsomest court houses in the 
State. About this time, I received a letter from Dr. Tate, 
introducing William Hill Wells to me — who settled in the 
woods where Wellesborough now stands, the county seat of 
Tioga. Mr. Wells applied to me to furnish him with pro- 
visions in his new settlement. He had brought a number 
of negroes with him, from the State of Delaware, where he 
moved from. I put eighty-eight hundred weight of pork 
on two sleds, and started to go to him with it. It was fine 
sledding, but dreadful cold weather. In crossing the Alle- 
gheny mountain, the man I had driving one of the teams, 
froze his feet up to his ankles. I was obliged to leave him; 
and the next morning put the four horses to one sled, and 
the pork on it, and started for Wells'. I had six times to 
cross Pine creek. A man coming into the settlement from 
that part of the country, had froze to death the day before. 
I passed him, lying in the road. The second crossing of 
the creek was about fifty yards wide ; and when the fore- 
most horses go to the middle of the creek the ice broke with 
them ; the ice was about mid-side deep ; and in their attempt- 
ing to get on the ice again, drew the other horses and sled 
into the creek, and pulled the roller out of the sled. I got 
the horses ashore, and tied them; I went back to the sled; 
the water running over the pork. I had to go partly under 
water, to get an axe that was tied on the sled, to cut a road 
through the ice, to get the sled ashore. Sometimes in the 
water up to my middle, and sometimes standing on the ice 
— the water following the stroke of the axe, would fly up, 
and as soon as it touched me it was ice. When I had got 
the road cut to the shore, I went to the sled, and I got a 
log chain, had to go under water, and hook first to one run- 
ner and then to the other, and back the horses in through 
the road, and pull the sled out. It was now dark; and I had 
six miles to go, and four times to cross the creek, without 
a roller in my sled to guide it. On descending ground, it 
would often run out of the road, when I had difficulty to 
get it in the road again — not a dry thread on me, and the 
outside of my clothes froze stiff. It was twelve o'clock be- 
fore I got to the mill, the first house before me; and there 
was neither hay nor stable when I got there. I thought my 
poor horses would freeze to death. Next morning, as soon 
as daylight appeared, I cut a stick, and put a roller to my 
sled ; — the very wood seemed filled with ice. 



12 

I started from there at ten o'clock; had fifteen miles to 
go to Wells' — the snow two feet deep, and scarcely a track 
in the road. I met Mr. Wells' negro five miles this side of 
his house, coming to meet me, on horseback, about sunset. 
He said there was a byroad, that was a mile nearer than the 
one that I was on ; and he undertook to pilot me ; but he 
soon lost the path, and we wandered about among the trees, 
till at length my sled pitched into a hole and overset. I 
then unhooked my horses from the sled, and asked the 
negro if he thought he could pilot me to the house ; but he 
acknowedged himself lost. I looked about, and took a view 
of the stars, and started with my four horses, and left my 
pork in the woods, and fortunately got into Wells'; and 
when I got there, he had neither hay nor stable, or any 
kind of feed, nor any place to confine my horses, but to tie 
them to the trees. He had a place dug in a log, that I could 
feed two of my horses at a time. All the buildings that he 
had erected, was two small cabins, adjoining each other — 
one for himself and family, about sixteen feet square, that I 
could not stand straight in, built of logs, and bark for an 
upper floor, and split logs for the lower floor. The negro 
cabin was a little larger, but built of the same materials. I 
set by the fire until morning — and it took me all that day to 
get my pork to the house, and settle ; and started next morn- 
ing for home, without a feed to give my horses there, after 
standing there two nights, and the snow to their bellies. I 
have been thus particular in detailing the circumstances of 
this trip, leaving you to judge of the hardhsips that I had 
to endure ; but it is only a specimen of much of the kind that 
T have had to encounter through life. 

I was at this time living in Pennsborough ; wliich place, 
when I came to this part of the country, was entirely in 
woods. There was barely a beginning to the town when I 
moved to it some years after. Stephen Bell had put up a 
shell of a house, which I purchased, and two lots adjoining; 
which house I finished, and improved with other buildings, 
handsomely about it. I v/ent on to purchase by little, as I 
was able, and could get it, until I owned and cleared the 
principal part of the land in and about the town ; and sold 
lots for the improvement of it — which is now one of the 
handsomest villages on the West Branch. 

On the 28th of September, 1804, my wife deceased; and 
on the 11th of June, 1807, I married Mary M'Cormick, 
widow of William M'Cormick. In 1808 I was elected to 
the State Senate, from the district composed of the counties 
of Lycoming and Centre. 



13 

At the expiration of my time in the Senate, I sold the 
balance of my land in Pcnnsborough, to Georg^e Lewis, of 
New York, for four thousand dollars, which enabled me, 
with the assistance I ,q:ot by my last wife, to make the first 
payment for five hundred and seventy acres of land, on the 
West Branch of Susquehanna, at the mouth of Loyalsock 
creek. It was an Indian reserve — and part of the tract had 
been cleared by the Indians ; but a great part of it was in 
a state of nature, and was in woods from Loyalsock creek 
for two miles, on the road leading to IMuncy, with the ex- 
ception of two small patches ; but is now handsomely im- 
proved, and a scattered town, nearly that distance from the 
creek. 

I purchased this tract of land in the spring of 1812. but 
could not get possession of it until 1813. Having sold my 
property at Pennsborough, I rented Walton's mills, for one 
year; and then came on my farm at Loyalsock. 

In 1811, Gov. Snyder sent me the appointment of Major 
General of the ninth division of Pennsylvania militia, for 
seven years. At the end of which time, I was re-appointed 
for four years; and in 1813, the same Governor sent me the 
appointment of Prothonotary of the Court of Common 
Pleas, Register of wills, Recorder of deeds, and Clerk of 
the several courts. And since I have been in this place, I 
have been three times nominated as a candidate for Con- 
gress, by regular meetings convened for the purpose of 
making nominations— twice by the old Democratic party, 
Avhen there were only two parties, known and distinguished 
by the Democratic and Federal parties — but did not stand 
a poll ; and once by the Antimasonic party, in a convention 
of delegates from dift'erent counties in the district. At this 
time, I agreed to stand a candidate, as a rallying point for 
the party, though well convinced that I had no chance of 
success; for I well knew the Masonic party was all power- 
ful in the district. I kept the offices of Prothonotary, &c., 
about four years, and then resigned them, and returned back 
to my farm. 

After I purchased this farm, I was only able to make the 
first payment ; and the balance of the purchase money be- 
ing a heavy debt, I was fearful of the consequences, and 
sold one hundred and twenty ^cres of it, for twenty-five 
dollars per acre — which I had cause afterwards to repent of, 
for I had to buy it back again in less than two years, for 
fifty-five dollars, and some of it at a hundred dollars per 
acre, or let it go into other hands, which I was not willing 
to do. Thus, instead of this sale relieving me in my em- 



14 

barrassment, increased it ; but it is all paid, though I have 
met with many losses ; — but my farm being a very produc- 
tive one, I have been able, with good management and hard 
labor, to sustain myself against them all. I have sold, in 
Baltimore market, one year's surplus produce of my farm 
for four thousand dollars, wanting five dollars ; besides 
nearly two hundred dollars worth at home, and besides feed, 
seed, grain, bread and meat. And the produce of it has en- 
abled me to build a good merchant mill, fifty by sixty, with 
five run of stones, which cost me, race, dams and all, rising 
ten thousand dollars ; and the losses I have met with are 
not much short of that sum. 

Now. here let me give a history of another trip that I 
had in the wilderness, that I travelled to Mr, Wells', and 
in which I sufifered more, much more, than I did in going 
to Wells'. I contracted with the commissioners of the east 
and west road, to deliver them a hundred barrels of flour, 
in Potter county. I started with seven sleds, carrying fifty 
barrels of it. After I got into the wilderness, it was forty 
miles between houses, and the snow very deep. There Avas 
a cabin half way, which we expected to lodge at. We got 
to the place a little after dark, when we found the cabin 
burnt down. This was the night previous to the "cold 
Thursday," — termed so by everybody at that time. The 
horses being very warm when we stopped, and it being 
dreadful cold, and the snow drifting upon them, almost cov- 
ering them up, they began to tremble amazingly. I felt 
alarmed for the horses; we had a number of blankets along, 
expecting to lay out; we mustered them all up, brushed 
the snow ofif the horses as well as we could, and tied the 
blankets on them. We then went to work to try to get 
a fire. Our fire-works were not good ; and it was towards 
the middle of the night before we got a fire : and then, a 
very poor one. We danced round it, until the daystar ap- 
peared. We then hooked to ; and there were very few of 
the horses that would stretch a chain, until we beat them 
severely, to get them warm. We had three miles of a hill 
to ascend. After I got the hindmost team to the top of the 
hill, I got a severe hurt, that entirely disabled me; I was 
not able to walk a step — was obliged to set on the top of 
the barrels, suffering the most excruciating pain, until sun- 
down, before we got to the first house, when it was feared 
that some of those driving the teams would freeze to death. 

Such has been my toil and unceasing labor, ever since I 
have had a family to raise, and educate my children, and 
place them in a situation that they would not be dependent. 



15 

I have brought them all up to industry, and am happy to 
have it in my power to say, they follow my example. 

I have not only built a mill, but have built several dwell- 
ing-houses, barns, and other necessary out-houses, on the 
farm, and improved it well. There was scarcely a good 
panel of fence on it when I came to it. 

I am now seventy-seven years old, and receive a pension, 
payable semi-annually, for my revolutionary services, un- 
der the act of Congress of 1822, of $173.33; and must, ac- 
cording to the course of nature, shortly leave what I have, 
whether it be little or much, of this world's goods, to my 
children, who have the natural right to it, hoping that they 
will always keep in mind that "God giveth — and He taketh 
away;" and that they will so act as to merit and receive 
His blessing, without which there is no real comfort or en- 
joyment in this world — nor can we expect it in that which 
is to come. 

And now, my sons, having complied with the request of 
my children, in giving them some of the events and trans- 
actons of my life, without going into a minute detail, 
which would be a very laborious task; (besides, my life has 
been a very chequered one, and I could not relate, from 
memory, one-half of the incidents of it, and have only re- 
lated some facts that never will be erased from my memory, 
while my senses last.) That, when the grave closes on me, 
you will not neglect to support the principles that your 
father so often ventured his life to establish, and so many of 
your uncles lost their lives in support of, — principles that 
gave your country birth, as a free and independent nation — 
that secures to you and your children, life, liberty and 
property, and the equal rights of your fellow men ; (not that 
I have any doubt you will do so,) but I wish to leave it as 
an injunction on you, and my grand-sons, and if I could, 
on the world of mankind in general. And although those 
principles have been disregarded and violated by corrupt 
and unholy men, yet I trust, that there is a redeeming spirit 
abroad in the land : that the people will return to their first 
love, and check the career of designing demagogues, (who. 
like wolves in sheep's clothing, have assumed to themselves 
the name of Democrats,) and revive those principles, before 
they become extinct. 

To conclude — let me again urge it upon you. (as a father's 
advice,) always to support, with your voice, votes and 
influence, the equal rights of your fellow men. These are 
the principles that carried us triumphantly through a bloody 



i6 

war against one of the most powerful monarchies on earth — 
principles that the sages of the revolution pledged "their 
lives, their fortune, and their sacred honors," to support. 
And set your faces against any and every measure hostile to 
those principles, — particularly against secret societies, the 
the very nature of which is at war with the fundamental 
principles of our government, and if carried out, must in- 
evitably destroy it. It is true, that I have had a double 
share of political persecution, in vindication of them ; but 
that detracts nothing from the righteousness of the cause 
and the obligations we are under to our country to support 
them. 

You will perceive, from my narrative, that although I 
have in early life, been nipped with the frost of adversity 
and poverty, that it has rather operated as a stimulant than 
a damper to my industry. Whenever a man becomes desti- 
tute of a laudable ambition to pursue some useful business, 
he becomes a drone, and a dead weight upon the common- 
wealth ; he is neither useful to himself, to society, nor to 
his country. 

NOTE — This noble and most worthy ancestor died in August 1837. 



Grand Event at Montoursvillc 



Golden Wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Nathanid Burrows Last 

Week — Interesting Exercises of the Commemoration — 

Review of the Past and Present — A Large 

Delegation from the City Participate 

on the Interesting Occasion — 

The Presents Numerotis 

and Costly. 



On the evening of the 30th of March transpired in Mon- 
toursville an event that will live fresh and green in the mem- 
ories of those who participated — we refer to the golden wed- 
ding of Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Burrows. A large party 
from W^illiamsport took the evening train on the Catawissa 
Branch, and upon reaching Alontoursville proceeded directly 
to the residence of Mr. Burrows, where they were cordially 
welcomed within. To this number was shortl}^ added the 
friends of the aged couple residing in that vicinity, and for a 
time sociality reigned supreme. The old folks enjoyed 
themselves in relating incidents of "ye olden times." and 
the lire of youth seemed to return and dance in the eyes of 
the venerable personages present. Young folks listened 
with interest, and caught the inspiration, joining in the merry 
laugh over some happy incident related as occurring a half 
century since. It was an occasion that called forth the 
warmest impulses and kindliest feelings, and one hundred 
participants felt that they had gathered beneath that hos- 
pitable roof to join in the festivities of a regular Cana mar- 
riage feast, and solemnize the golden nuptials of the ven- 
erable cou])le who looked upon it as no fabled event. For 
fifty years Mr. and Mrs. B. have tread together the difficult 
path of life, sharing alike its joys and sorrows, and now, 
throwing back the veil, memory produced in panoramic 
array the scenes and incidents' that transpired as the two 
travelers marched along the uncertain pathway. What 
young heart could erase from memory such an event as this, 
while to the old it was a well-spring of joy — a fountain of 
delight, from which issued the spray of sweet communion. 



i8 

Mr. and Mrs. Burrows were among the happiest of the 
party, and it was with a peculiar spirit of earnestness that 
Mr. B. related incidents of his life. Sixty-two years ago he 
located upon the land where now stands Montoursville. 
Then it was all a wilderness, except a spot upon the bottom 
land, near the river, where the sturdy axeman felled the 
giant trees before the guns of the revolution summoned the 
patriots to arms. Mr. Burrows cleared as high as fifty acres 
per year, working as men of old were wont to work beneath 
the hot sun of summer and amid the rough blasts of winter. 
Then the land was purchased at $19 per acre — now it brings 
$200. He has lived to see the wilderness blossom like the 
rose— to see the tide of improvement sweep onward until 
the West Branch Valley resounds with the hum of indus- 
try. In 1804 his father was County Commissioner, and pur- 
chased the bell that now hangs in the Court House belfry. 
For seventy years it has summoned attorneys and clients, 
and the old gentleman referred to this fact with apparent 
satisfaction. But soon conversation was checked, by one of 
the party announcing that the time had arrived for the 

CEREMONIES OF THE EVENING. 

The party assembled in the parlor, Mr. and Mrs. Bur- 
rows and their children arrayed upon one side of the room. 
Presently Rev. George F. Cain stepped forward and said : 
Fifty years ago this aged couple stood before the altar, and 
joining hands pledged to share alike each other's joys and 
sorrows. They have faithfully observed the sacred vow, 
and to-night the only surviving witness of the ceremony was 
present to participate in the golden event — an event which 
occurs but once in a life-time. After half a century of wed- 
ded life, they were surrounded by their relatives and friends 
and he would take occasion to say, that if any person could 
produce a reason why this couple should be divorced, that 
reason should be given at once. The reverend gentleman 
then proceeded to re-unite them, the ceremony being of an 
impressive charcter, and closed by hoping they might enjoy 
years of life, and finally rest in heaven. 

A fervent prayer was offered by Rev. J. P. Hudson. At 
the close. Rev. Cain stepped forward and shook hands with 
Mr. and Mrs. Burrows, saying that he felt it his duty to con- 
gratulate them, owing to the fact that he was not present 
when the nuptials were first performed. 



19 

Rev. De Moyer then presented a paper prepared by Mr. 
Tunison Coryell, the only surviving witness of the marriage 
of this aged couple. The reading of the document was 
listened to with great interest by all present. It is as fol- 
lows : 

It is our privilege to celebrate to-day the fiftieth anni- 
versary of the marriage of the pair that now own and oc- 
cupy the house at which we are guests. I am the only sur- 
vivor who witnessed the marriage ceremony of Nathaniel 
Burro\vs and Eliza Jordan, performed on Tuesday, the 30th 
day of March, 1824, by the Rev. George Gray, a Scotchman, 
then pastor of the Newberry church, at the bride's father, 
Amos Jordan. His mansion was situated on the bank of 
Bottle Run, a beautiful small rivulet that flowed through his 
farm in Lycoming township, about five miles distant from 
Williamsport, west of Lycoming Creek. 

Your family, relatives, friends and neighbors have assem- 
bled at your home to congratulate you upon your past voy- 
age in life of fifty years, now recognize as your "golden 
wedding." 

But few married couples, of this or other lands, are per- 
mitted to live together for a half century. 

By toil and honest industry, with hearts in unison, you 
have, through the smiles of Providence, gathered together a 
sufficiency to leave your offspring in comfortable circum- 
stances, to inherit the bounties of your past labors in life ; 
and may they, after the departure of their venerable par- 
ents, improve their minds and adopt the precepts of their 
parents, in looking to their Heavenly Father for Divine di- 
rection in their walk and conversation through life. 

It must be consoling to the venerable pair now before 
us to witness the presence of all their living children, seven 
in number — Sarah Jane, John H., Cornelia B., Mary \V., 
Charles S., now of Chicago ; Frank S., and George C, aU of 
whom are married and comfortably situated in life, within a 
short distance of their parents, and are by reputation honest, 
temperate and of industrious habits. Also are present all 
the grandchildren, in number twenty-one. 

A retrospect of the past fifty years may not be uninter- 
esting upon this occasion. In 1824 the father of our groom 
occupied and owned the land which we arc now upon. He 



20 

had two sons and four daughters ; the only one that sur- 
vives is in our presence. Mrs. Fanny HoUingsworth and 
family, Charles Lloyd and wife, and many other neighbors 
of this vicinity have been called to eternity. 

At that period Alontoursville was better known as Tea- 
town, a name given by the proprietor of this house, in con- 
sequence of the women generally asking him when often 
visiting Williamsport, to purchase for them tea by the 
pound, half pound, or quarter pound, according to their 
means, which he brought to the ladies and families on his 
return. 

The first post office at this place was named at the in- 
stance of Gen'l Burrows. It was difficult for years after to 
call the place other than Teatown. 

Montoursville takes the name after an Indian who held 
a large tract now embracing this village and suburbs, com- 
monly called in the early history of this county "Montour's 
Reserve." 

In 1824 James Monroe was President of the United 
States, and was succeeded by J. Quincy Adams, in March, 
1825. J. A. Shultz was Governor of Pennsylvania. Our 
members of Congress were George Kremer, Samuel Mc- 
Kean and Espy Van Horn. Members of our State Legisla- 
ture, Thomas Burnside in the Senate, and Robert ]\IcClure 
and James Ford, of Tioga count}^ were members of the 
House of Representatives. Thomas Hays was Sheriff of 
Lycoming county ; J. R. Hughes, Coroner ; T. Coryell, Pro- 
thonotary; A. Taylor, Recorder, &c. ; Seth Chapman, Presi- 
dent Judge of our courts ; Commissioners, James Winters, 
W. S. Montgomery and Peter Vanderbelt ; Clerk of Com- 
missioners, James Armstrong; Auditors, Nathaniel Manna, 
J. K. Torbert and Wm. Piatt, Jr. ; Treasurer, J. Vanderbelt; 
Deputy Surveyor, John A. Gamble. 

Henry Hughes was postmaster at Williamsport, Wm. 
A. Petriken at Muncy, Matthew MacReynolds at Jersey 
Shore, and John Curts at Dunnsburg, only three of the fore- 
going named survive, Wm. Piatt, John A. Gamble and T. 
Coryell. 

The population of Pennsylvania was about 1,160,000, 
and the average vote in Lycoming county 1,036, and the 



21 

vote of the Congressional District of ten counties was 
about 11,000. 

In this year monumental corner stones to the memory of 
Washington were to be laid at Philadelphia and Bunker 
Hill, one to the memory of Baron de Kalb in South Caro- 
lina and one near West Point in memory of Kosciusko, cere- 
monies under the direction of General Lafayette. 

The assessment for taxes on seated property by the 
Commissioners of Lycoming county, for 1824, was $5,932.13. 

On the 13th of February, 1866, you and Eliza, your wife, 
and many of your offspring, and other friends and neigh- 
bors, assembled at my humble dwelling to congratulate me 
and your beloved sister Sarah on our "Golden Wedding." 
It was in the evening during a revival in the First Presby- 
terian church. The events thereof will never be erased from 
my mind. W^e lived happily together until the 24tli of 
March, 1869, when she was called from life unto death, and 
gave evidence of a new life to follow, through faith in the 
blood of our Saviour that was shed for sinners. 

It is gratifying to mark the different stages of our coun- 
try' 's progress subsequent to the year 1824. The last fifty 
years embrace an eventful period in the world's history. 
When in 1824 the farmer gathered his crops with scythe and 
cradle or the sickle, and threshed with a flail, now machines 
for sowing, reaping and threshing save time and labor. 

Then it took more than a week to reach Pittsburg from 
Philadelphia — now it takes about fifteen hours, and the av- 
erage time for crossing the Atlantic was five weeks — now 
it is ten days. 

During the past half century telegraph lines, canals and 
railroads have been successful improvements of our L'nion. 
Then Africa was unexplored ; and the golden treasures of 
California and Australia were unknown. Previous to this 
year, 1824. it took years to travel around the world, while 
the same journey was performed recently by the late \\'m. 
H. Seward, of New York, in less than fifteen months. 

Fifty years ago the Papal power was proud, aggressive 
and defiant now the temporal power has passed away, while 
the dominant influence in Europe is in possession of the Pro- 
testants. 



22 

We need not take so wide a field to study the effects of 
contrast, but confine our attention to narrower limits, and 
find in the march of progress that the present is far dift'er- 
ent from the past. 

In the history of your village, there are contrasts, not so 
startling as those on a large scale, yet sufficient to assure us 
that from the review of the past we may hope for still better 
things in the future. 

Fifty years ago where now is a town of more than fif- 
teen hundred inhabitants, then not more than thirty ; where 
now there are several hundred houses, three or four 
churches, two large flouring mills, paper mill, a large school 
building, with the best of common schools, also a normal 
school in flourishing condition, several physicians and me- 
chanics, eight merchants, also large dealers in lumber and 
shippers to the lower markets, then not more than a half 
dozen buildings. 

May the sunset of your lives be as calm and mellowed, 
as its beginning was happy and auspicious. 

Dr. Samuel Pollock Avas then called upon. He remarked 
that he had always been aware that 'Squire Burrows was a 
modest man, but by some necromancy there had been 
placed in his (the doctor's) pocket a poem which he heart- 
ily endorsed, and the sentiment was so akin to his feelings 
that were he the author of it he could not have more clearly 
expressed his views. He would read it: 

Just fifty years ago my wife and I agreed, 

Before a godly company, a wedded life to lead. 

And through these years life's joys and pains have been 

sandwiched together. 
Like clouds and sunshine always are in March's stormy 

weather. 

We're not as young now as you and 1 were then. 

Our hearts are just as warm to-day as they have always 

been ; 
The snow of age fell lightly, too, for it was never felt 
But heaviest on our heads it lies, for it will never melt. 

Fond mem'ry still will oft recall that most auspicious time, 
When in your robe of bridal white, in all your youthful 
prime, 



23 

You pledged your troth to me, wife, for weal as well as woe, 
Upon this very day and hour, just fifty years ago; 
Nor have you ever lessened, wife, our spirits cheerful flow, 
Then when I loved you, in 3^our prime, just fifty years ago. 

I often vividly recall with ever new delight, 

The gay and happy crowd that met up our bridal night ; 

A merry group, a cheerful, festive throng. 

Whose life flow'd smoothly, evenly along. 

O, then afloat on young life's sea. 
Our bark career 'd most cheerily; 
The gentlest zephys swept along, 
And all on board was life and song; 
And through the coming years that lay 
Like golden mists across our way. 
We often fancied we could see 
Glimpses of some bright destiny. 

Yet in the sad arithmetic of years. 
Whose sum is sorrow and the symbol tears, 
Multiply numbers, add all figures known 
We reached but once the magic twenty-one. 

But things are altered very much between that time and 

now. 
When first I clasped you to my heart just fifty years ago; 
Yet from that time to this, wife, through all life's toil and 

care, 
I never knew you make its flowers to grow or bloom less 

fair. 

Sorrows then may be which are sorrows still; 
Yet time will blunt the keenest edge of ill ; 
Will w^reath bright garlands round the brow of woe, 
And gild with glory, grief of long ago. 

We would not, could not, if we had the power, 
Wake from their sleep the dream of childhood's hour. 
Take from the young heart its most brilliant gem 
Youth's golden future; life's bright diadem. 

Age disenchants our young life's golden dream, 

AiYection gilds them with her brighter beam. 

Tho' lov'd ones slumber in their dreamless sleep, 

Tho, round their graves time's noiseless flood may sweep. 



24 

We mourn their absence, for the Simoon's blast 
On its death-errand swept them, as it passed, 
Yet where they rest, the hand of love shall twine 
The amaranthyne and the myrtle vine. 

With joy unming"led we are here to meet 
Long, well known friends, we always joy'd to greet. 
To form new friendships and cement the old. 
And keep them both from ever growing cold. 

With some 'tis sunset ; we can oft descry 

The crimson tints that mark life's evening nigh. 

Soon will our pathway turn from night ; 

Life's gates swing open to the light; 

And in that far, far happy home, 

I know they'll greet us when we come. 

And now, 'Squire Burrows, let me say to you, 
Ere to this scene I bid a fond adieu. 
Where'er I roam, where'er my lot may be, 
My grateful heart will always turn to thee. 
And may life's simset on your parting hour, 
A hallow 'd radiance of true glory pour, 
And make the evening of your lengthen 'd day, 
In heaven's own sunlight sweetly melt away. 

At the conclusion of the Doctor's congratulatory poem, 
he gave a toast to Mrs. Burrows the following: 

What gives home its purest pleasure? 

What adds dignity to life? 
Is not woman our best treasure 

As a mother, sister, wife? 

Applause followed the reading. This closed the ceremo- 
nies proper, but there was an interesting part of the pro- 
gramme yet to be performed. It was quickly announced — 
"refreshments" — and in a short time one hundred were 
seated to partake of a bounteous supper, that had been pre- 
pared by skillful hands. It was a repast including the deli- 
cacies of the season, and all felt that it was good to be there. 

After supper the time was soent happily in conversation. 
The Lycoming Gazette of March 31, 1824, was produced, 
containing: the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Burrows, and as it 



M B 



18.* 



passed from hand to hand it was frcqueiilly remarked, 
"wliat a chaiii;e since then." 

THE PRESENTS. 

There were many elegant and costly presents. l)nt par- 
ticularly noticeable was a solid i^old cream pitcher, elabor- 
ately carved upon the side ai^pearin'^ the mono,c;ram "X. E. 
1>/' — Xathaniel and Eliza lUirrows — with the ris>ures 1824- 
LS74. It is the gift of Mrs. j. F. Xorcross. 163.=^ Xorth T.road 
street, Philadelphia. 

THE DEPARTURE. 

At ten o'clock the D()Xf)l()|^\- w ,as suni,'", and benediction 
pronounced by Rev. G. F. Cain. Then followed the "good- 
night hand-shaking,'' Mr. and Mrs. Burrows thanking the 
party kindly for their xisit. The W'illiamsport delegation 
returned to the depot, where a iirst-class passenger car was 
in v\aiting, and at 10:20 the visitors were at home. 

The occasion was highly enjoyed b}' all. and in after years, 
in referring to the golden e\ent, not a participant would 
drop one single link from memory's golden chain, t has 
cheered the aged couple in their declining years, and when 
Nature stands on the very verge of her confine. Mr. and 
Mrs. Burrows can look back upon this hapj)} reunion, and 
bless God that their eyes were permitted to liehold such a 
gathering together of their own. May the sun of happiness 
illuminate their remaining years. 










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